


Prisoner

by DenDenMonMon



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: F/M, The X Factor, saula - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 18:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenDenMonMon/pseuds/DenDenMonMon
Summary: Because even if the cage is open, the bird no longer knows how to fly.





	1. 1/2 – The Cage.

**Author's Note:**

> First Published: 13/11/14  
> Original Story Notes:  
> So this story basically wrote itself in my head right after I finished reading Chances by indygirl15 –which, if you haven’t, you should all go and read it.! I’ll give you some time, go.! . . . . . I did ask her permission to write this, which she kindly conceded.  
> And, of course, everything came together after the tiny tinny fix of Saula we got from the Check Yourself video xP  
> Hope you like it.  
> Enjoy.!  
> -Monkey.

**1/2 – The Cage.**  
  
One ring.  
  
Two rings.  
  
Three rings.  
  
Four rings.  
  
Voicemail.  
  
She can’t come to the phone right now, he must leave a message with his name and number so she can call him back. But that’s not good enough for him. The red button is press and then redial, she has to be available. She is always available for him.  
  
Unlike him.  
  
But she has to understand, he has a lot of work to do and he must balance it with a relationship and a baby to take care of. The same baby that is now sleeping soundly in his arms. His small chest raises and falls as he takes slow breaths in his sleep. The tiny mouth is slightly opened and the long lashes rest softly on his cheeks.   
  
Eric is such a handsome baby. Simon had no idea his heart could be stolen that way. It only took one look at this tiny human being to know that his life would never be the same. As soon as the warm bundle of joy was placed inside his arms for the first time, he has known his entire life would never be the same. His entire list of priorities needs to change.   
  
And he only has one person to thank to, the young woman that adores him to death and is in a deep state of slumber as well right now. Whenever the baby sleeps, she sleeps. That is the rule. Statute that allows him to make this secret –unanswered phone calls.  
  
The fourth ring is heard and then her directions on how to leave a message.  
  
Paula Abdul will be the death of him, of that he is sure.  
  
As gently as possible, he places his precious baby in his oversized cradle filled with pillows and stuffed animals. Only the best can be provided for Simon Cowell’s son.  
  
The rocking chair is right after occupied with his tired body and his glasses soon find the table right next to it. The bridge of his nose calls out for him to apply some pressure on it or else the migraine will unleash. So he obeys, he listens to his body as the pain grows. Just like he needs to answer the undying craving for her. One more call and he will drop the subject, he promises himself.  
  
One ring.  
  
Two rings.  
  
Three rings.  
  
A click.  
  
His back immediately straightens at the possible sound of her, which doesn’t come. He can only hear what sounds like the phone being dropped, hitting the floor and bouncing a couple of times. And then it comes, the first words he hears from her since months ago finally reach his ears.  
  
“Oh, shit!”   
  
Her heels against the floor, a grunt and then silence again.  
  
He knows she’s there, he knows she’s at the other side of the line waiting for him to say something. Because he is the one that called her, he is the one with the apology dying on his lips, he is the one that needs to speak out now.   
  
“Hello,” he finally manages to say. It comes out more like a question, like asking if she is really there waiting for him. As if he didn’t know she will always be already.  
  
“Hi, Simon.” She doesn’t fail him. Her voice comes out clear and strong, not a hint of pain or sadness accompanies his name. He can work with that.  
  
“Are you busy?”  
  
“Just wrapping up a meeting. What up?”  
  
She’s definitely moving around, distracted. She’s not paying attention to him and that has to change.  
  
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers. He is surprised by the honesty tinting his own voice. And he can tell it comes as a shocker for her as well because the other side of the line suddenly goes silent again. "Paula, I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be," she quickly replies. There is a short gap and then the expected subject change. "How's Eric?" She’s smiling, he can tell as much, just as he can tell that smile is forced to come out to cover up the sadness the topic puts on her.  
  
"Growing." He decides to go safe and points out the obvious instead. "He's growing way too fast. He no longer fits in the jumper you sent him."  
  
Of course, in a very graceful, very Paula Abdul manner, she has sent a basket with baby toys, pairs of tiny shoes and clothes. The words 'Aunt Paula' adorned the card from the sender and his heart was broken as soon as he read them. She has accepted his son as part of her life now. If Eric gets anything close to the attention she gives to her actual nephews, this kid will never lack of love in his entire life.  
  
Selfishly, he has kind of expected for her to be a little more reluctant to be part of this whole ordeal. He would have preferred if she hated him, at least a little, for having a kid with another woman. He doesn't regret it, not one bit. Because that wrong turn that he took gave him the greatest gift he could have ever dreamed of. Still he wishes she had fought for him, for them. Instead, she got herself the Aunt title immediately.  
  
"Ah, I'll have to go shopping again," she interrupts his deep chain of thoughts.  
  
"Anything can be a good excuse, eh?"  
  
They both chuckle for the first time since the call started. The grey cloud gets lifted for just a moment, for a fraction of a second, and that's enough to allow the old 'them' to find a way back in.  
  
"Hey, don't ignore what I said," he tries to push the subject. "I really am sorry."  
  
There is a deep sigh on her side of the line before her voice is heard again. “I’m not.” And there is a sudden ray of hope shining above him to her words, same ray that vanishes as soon as it gets there. “I can’t stay attached to the past. Even if it hurts, it’s important to know when to let go. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”  
  
One more time, she finds a way to hit him right where it hurts without even knowing. He hurt her, he almost killed her. He left her waiting for the ‘right time’ that never came. He has truly planned on being with her, but he needed to become a better man first, a better version of himself to be worthy of her. The old rendition of him had to make one last try to impose itself though and made him find himself involved with an old lover.  
  
Simon shakes his head. He doesn’t regret it, he repeats himself.  
  
“Paula, I miss you. I know I hurt you, and I know there is no way we can get back to what we were, but I think we are better than this. Our friendship means a lot more than…” he pauses as his brain tries to find the right adjective for what they are living, failing miserably in the process. “This.”  
  
If he knows her as much as he thinks, she’s shaking her head right now. Silently telling herself not to reply.  
  
“I… I’ve missed you too,” she finally confesses. Miles and miles and oceans away, he knows her eyes are closing as she slowly recovers from letting her guard down. “But no,” she adds after a moment. “We can’t go back to what we had. You can try to put the vase back together but the cracks will always be there.”  
  
They are damaged, they are broken, they are beyond repair.  
  
He cracked them.  
  
Eric stirs in his sleep, rolling to his side slowly. Simon’s eyes fix on his son as the small feet kick the blanket away. The new position proving to be rather uncomfortable.   
  
“Let me see you,” he almost begs to the phone.   
  
Right on cue, the baby cries next to him. The sound lasts only a moment as soon as the big eyes find his father, immediately a smile replaces the down curve on the baby’s lips. He is just so happy, all the time. How can he not notice that the man he is smiling to right now is in deep emotional pain?  
  
Paula lands him back to the reality of their call again. “You are busy, and I am as well.” She sounds exhausted, as if just thinking about it made her overly tired. And she is not letting him in, not like he wants to.  
  
“Busy? What can you possibly be busy with?” His tongue acts on its own again, his words fail to articulate what his head really wanted to say.  
  
The hallow laugh is nothing new to him. She laughs at his comments, brushing it off as if it were nothing, as if he didn’t just tell her that she had nothing better to do than to sit around and wait for him.  
  
“If you must know,” she starts, her voice filled with pride. “I’m working on this amazing project right now. I’m back to dancing and choreographing and helping people. My life is right where I wanted it to be.”  
  
Away from him, he quickly realizes.  
  
The smile is evident as she speaks, and not the silly one that she puts on for the cameras. Not the forced curve her lips form when she’s asked about them, about his current situation. This is the tone she uses when she talks about her dancing, about nurturing new talent. The same voice she used to tell the story of their first date, of the first time he flew all the way back to Los Angeles because he missed her just that much. This is her happy voice.  
  
She truly is happy. She, somehow, found the strength to get better without him, to get stronger. She’s slowly getting back to the strong Paula he used to know. And it kills him. He is supposed to be the one behind her growth. He likes to think it is thanks to him she is able to get back on her feet. It looks like she’s learnt to do all of that by herself now, and it kind of scares him. He no longer feels needed by her. She’s breaking free.  
  
“The only thing I’m missing is the funds,” she sighs. “We are raising money left and right and there’s always something new to cover. And Marty told me I can’t get any more of my own money invested on this.”  
  
“I’m in,” he quickly utters. “How much do you need?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I want to help you. Just give me the number and I’ll write you a check.”  
  
“You don’t even know what the project is about.”  
  
“I don’t care. You will always be a good investment.”  
  
Secretly, he is hoping she truly understands what he means. He is not just talking about the money, she is worth a lot more than any figure she can blurt out right now. Time, effort and cash, she will always be worth it.  
  
This will only be a small amount against everything he has to gain. He, of course, will have to go and check where his money is going to. He must supervise his assets, which means he will get to see her. He will get to see her dance, to be close to her. Any chance he can get to work with her will be taken.   
  
“Are you serious?” she asks doubtfully.  
  
“Like a heart attack.”  
  
“That would be…”   
  
He can tell she’s struggling to find the right words. She’s clearly unsure of how she feels about this.  
  
“Actually, that would be pretty amazing. Thank you.”  
  
He’s back in. He might not have gotten the answer he wanted. But the door is not closed yet. There is a small hint of faith for him, for them. That’s all he needs.   
  
He just got the reassurance that he still has her, and he won’t let her go this time.


	2. 2/2 – The Bird.

**2/2 – The Bird.**  
  
“Paula, this is going to be amazing!” Her assistant pulls her for a tight hug. “You are doing awesome.”  
  
She whispers a small ‘thank you’ as she walks him out the door. She does share the excitement but right now she doesn’t feel like celebrating just yet. It’s been a long day. A lot has been taken care of but new tasks have also been added to the list. She loves what she does but that doesn’t mean that it is not tiring.   
  
As she closes the front door to her apartment, she is happy to finally be left alone. It’s late at night and all she has done the entire day is check on numbers with her crew. This is something that she has wanted to do. She wanted to get involved as much as she could in the making of this video. She has been invited to be the face of the project but her constant need of creating new things has little by little turned her into one of the leaders of the production.  
  
The spot she is more than happy to fill, as exhausting as it may be for her.  
  
She makes her way back inside at a slow pace, there is no need to rush. The mess in her dining room is still going to be there, waiting for her to clear it one assignment at the time. Her dogs are sleeping on the couches, which instantly makes her jealous of her babies.  
  
The seat next to them is soon occupied by her tired body and her glasses find the coffee table right after. Her head rests on the soft pillows and her eyes close for a moment. Everything is dark and quiet around her, finally.  
  
But then, there is a buzzing breaking through the silence. Her phone vibrating against the glass table is making a rather loud noise. She will leave it. She is not available right now, she can’t come to the phone. She can check her voicemails in a moment, one more call she has to return.   
  
She’s rewarded with silence for a moment before the buzzing starts going again. She stretches her body, trying to reach the device, not to answer it but to stop the annoying noise. Just when she’s about to reach it, she slips, knocking the phone to the floor.  
  
“Oh, shit!”   
  
She stands up and walks to where it landed, her back hurts as soon as she bends down to get it. She has been seated all day and her muscles are complaining.  
  
But any physical pain that she could be under is nothing compared to the sudden blow she feels against her chest. The air is knocked out of her as she sees his name on the screen. The call has been answered by mistake, she doubts for a moment if the red button should be pressed.  
  
Curiosity takes the best of her and she brings the phone to her ear.  
  
“Hello?” She hears him speak, his voice is shaking, doubtful. Definitely not what she expected, she has to have some control over this.  
  
“Hi, Simon.” She tries to sound as confident as possible. He won’t get to her, not anymore.  
  
It looks like those two seconds are as much rest as she will get. Now here he comes to provide one more thing to worry about.  
  
“Are you busy?”  
  
“Just wrapping up a meeting. What up?”  
  
She walks back to her meeting room, which used to be a very elegant dining room just a few months back. There are a few papers that fell on the floor. The table is stained with markers and empty cups of coffee leave circles on it as well.  
  
This whole room is a mess.  
  
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers. Between the many things that she thought he would say, this was not one of them. The honesty in his voice lets her know that he is not kidding. And not only that, he decides to keep on talking. "Paula, I'm sorry."  
  
Simon Cowell will be the death of her, of that she is sure.  
  
"Don't be," she quickly replies. She can’t go down that road, not now, not when things are getting better for her. She needs to change the subject. “How's Eric?" She tries to get away from a painful topic and, instead, she just throws herself into the lion’s mouth.   
  
"Growing," he says proudly, and with valid reasons. He created a human being, he has a small version of himself that will adore him no matter what. He should be proud. "He's growing way too fast. He no longer fits in the jumper you sent him."  
  
Of course, her manners didn’t allow her to just ignore the baby shower invitation. She could have never faced that woman though, not the woman who managed to have what she will never accomplish. That’s a dream Paula gave up a long time ago, and she could have sworn he didn’t care. Simon didn’t want kids and she couldn’t give them to him, there was nothing to be talked or discussed. They were happy with their fury four-legged kids.  
  
But then it happened, while they were waiting for the dust of their past to settle, while she tried to become a stronger version of herself and actually be his equal. He found somebody else, someone that literally can give him what she couldn’t. There is no way she can fight that.   
  
Reluctantly, she has realized her place in his life now. She needs to be a friend to him. Of course she will love that baby, because it’s his. That kid is an extension of him and her love for Simon is so big that will now cover both of them.  
  
"Ah, I'll have to go shopping again," she blurts out, a need to spoil baby Eric suddenly invading her.  
  
"Anything can be a good excuse, eh?"  
  
They both chuckle for the first time since the call started. The grey cloud gets lifted for just a moment, for a fraction of a second, and that's enough to allow the old 'them' to find a way back in.  
  
"Hey, don't ignore what I said," he tries to push the subject. "I really am sorry."  
  
Why?   
  
Why does he have to insist?   
  
Doesn’t he know that she has barely remembered how to breathe again?  
  
Can he see that it took everything she had to build herself back up and left her with nearly nothing?  
  
He can’t be serious.  
  
“I’m not,” she states firmly. “I can’t stay attached to the past. Even if it hurts, it’s important to know when to let go. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”  
  
Every cell of her body is pushing her to stay afloat. Can’t he just drop the subject? She is happy now, her life turned out for the better. She no longer needs him to know she’s worth something, she doesn’t need his approval. Her happiness no longer means him.  
  
“Paula, I miss you. I know I hurt you, and I know there is no way we can get back to what we were, but I think we are better than this. Our friendship means a lot more than… this.”  
  
She knows he couldn’t find a way to describe what they have, because everything they had is broken, lost, there’s nothing for them to come back to.   
“I… I’ve missed you too,” she finds herself confessing. But soon she regains her confidence to push him away. “But no, we can’t go back to what we had. You can try to put the vase back together but the cracks will always be there.”  
  
There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and then a plea.  
  
“Let me see you,” he almost begs to the phone.   
  
As if knowing what his daddy has just said, Eric lets out a cry. Paula doesn’t need to be reminded of his existence. She has that fact very present. Simon is a father now and that is not going to change, there is no longer a place for them to even try and give it another shot. She could never hurt a kid like that.  
  
She needs to take them out of this conversation before they reach a point so deep that will never let them out again. “You are busy, and I am as well.”   
  
The whiteboards filled with schedules and timings and responsibilities catch her eyes right away, she has her own baby to take care of. But she doesn’t expect him to understand.  
  
“Busy? What can you possibly be busy with?” His tongue acts as predictable as ever.  
  
She has to laugh, he hasn’t changed a bit.  
  
“If you must know,” she starts, her voice filled with pride. “I’m working on this amazing project right now. I’m back to dancing and choreographing and helping people. My life is right where I wanted it to be.”  
  
She looks around the messy room as she speaks. This is all she’s ever dreamed of, making a life out of her love for music. And this project is just what she was missing, it doesn’t only keep her mind occupied but it gives her the opportunity to work in the field where she’s respected the most, where her name really means something. All of those years of hard work and putting up with people like him, people that are not familiar with her world and tend to belittle what she has accomplished, have made her appreciate this new adventure she’s taking on so much more.  
  
Everything could be perfect if it wasn’t for one thing. “The only thing I’m missing is the funds,” she finds herself saying out loud. “We are raising money left and right and there’s always something new to cover. And Marty told me I can’t get any more of my own money invested on this.”  
  
“I’m in. How much do you need?”  
  
“What?”   
  
He must be joking. Is he really offering her money? No, that can be it. This must be one of those sick jokes of him that make no sense outside of his own head.   
  
“I want to help you. Just give me the number and I’ll write you a check.”  
  
“You don’t even know what the project is about.”  
  
“I don’t care. You will always be a good investment.”  
  
The fact that he is a lot richer than she is has never been a problem for them. But he has never used it against her either. He just wants to be in control again. No, he cannot get involved. This is hers, this is something she’s been nurturing and wanted to see succeed thanks to her hard work.  
  
She looks at the red numbers they have been working on all day. They do need some help. She can’t be that selfish, this is not about her, it is all about helping people.  
  
“Are you serious?” she asks doubtfully.  
  
“Like a heart attack.”  
  
“That would be…”   
  
Dangerous.  
  
Complicated.  
  
Nerve-wracking.  
  
Unnecessary painful.  
  
“Actually, that would be pretty amazing. Thank you.”  
  
She just let go of the opportunity to break free. Life is giving her the chance to be her own person and, just like that, she jumps back in the roller coaster that means having him back in her life.  
  
If there was any doubt, she has just confirmed that, when it comes to Simon Cowell, she will never be able to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written 14/10/2014 – 20/10/2014


End file.
